


Ramble On

by JessTheEpic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Band, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Homeless Castiel, Homelessness, M/M, Team Free Will, Teenagers, long fic, team free will IN A BAND, tfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-07
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-04-30 09:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5158859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessTheEpic/pseuds/JessTheEpic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Together in the garage band they always dreamed of, Sam and Dean Winchester are happy. Including other friends, like Charlie Bradbury and Kevin Tran? Even better. (And for Dean Winchester to possibly find love? That there, that is the best.) Oh, and not to mention Band Battle's coming to Lawrence. It's about to go down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [citoayrc](https://archiveofourown.org/users/citoayrc/gifts).



"Sammy, look at them up there! Look at the way they move, innit cool?" Dean's high 9 year old voice came out as his now 7 year old brother sat on their father's shoulders with foam earplugs in. Sam grinned a crooked grin at his older brother; one of his front teeth was missing and his lengthy hair was tucked behind his dumbo-like ears. His ACDC shirt wrapped around him, and his bright green eyes gleamed in the steam and lights of the concert.  
"Daddy, can I get up closer?" Dean questioned, tugging on his fathers green jacket.  
"Of course buddy," John placed his large hand upon Dean's shoulder,"Let's get on up there."  
Dean smiled widely, pushing his way through people to get through the grass. People parted quickly for the little boy who appreciated classic rock.

Dean looked at his brother, little Sammy, who had aged up to be a straight A student. Now in high school, Sammy's (He preferred Sam, but Dean didn't care. Apparently "Sammy" was a fat twelve year old.) hair grew around his head in a slightly Gothic style. Now, Dean was nearing his senior year, and Sam was nearly at the end of his sophomore year. The duo fought sometimes, but they were basically inseparable. Dean, 17 1/2. Sam, 15. The older looked at his little brother with a look of pride as he watched Sam tuning his guitar. He glanced at his own strings of the beautiful instrument taking up the space of his lap. They were fairly new, the glimmer of them shone in the sunlight of their back porch. Sam strummed a few chords and looked at Dean, only to see a proud look on his big brothers face.  
"Good job, man. Not much now before you're a pro," Dean winked at him, expressing his love for Sam with a simple gesture. He loved being Sammy's teacher, it was his favorite past-time after school. Sam grinned, and played a few more. Dean joined in, trying to make music. They ended up playing "I Saw Her Standing There," by The Beatles and singing along profusely off key to it.

Sam high-fived his friend, the girl in one grade below him, Charlie. His hair was now parted in the middle and his body and head were starting to become proportionate. He had wonderful, white straight teeth and minor imperfections, excluding the high school acne that dotted his face. He wasn't a small lanky boy anymore. He was overly tall, taller than Dean, and there was some muscle on his arms and chest. Charlie pulled her wrist into her other hand quickly, commentating on Sam's highfive  
"Geez Sam, you've got one hell of an arm" She started chuckling lightly, her red hair sparkled in the light outside. It was wrapped in a high pony tail, and her bangs captured the beauty of her face.  
"C'mon, Charles, I didn't hit you that hard," Sam laughed, his eyes scrunched and his cheeks hurt when she slapped his shoulder,"My name is Charlie, you brat."  
"Hey, look it's your girlfriend, walking this way," He pointed a large finger towards a girl headed towards them. Dorothy stopped in front of them, her brown hair tucked in a simple bun at the back of her head. She was a little taller than Charlie, and her being seemed to glow to the red headed girl. She'd had a crush on her since she was about fourteen. Dorothy's plump and pink lips beamed at Charlie. She hit Sam again, and made up an excuse to leave. As Charlie walked away, Sam saw the light red tint that entered her usually pale face. The last day of high school for Dean, but Sam had his Senior year to attend to. The boys and Charlie now had a band, Elevator to Hell. Sam, Charlie, and Dean had practices every Friday, but they usually just did random covers of songs they all knew ranging anywhere from some type of death metal to Coldplay. Charlie would then stay over for the weekends. Life was good.

Now present day, Dean sat on the dusty grey couch in the garage. 19 years old, he threw the ball at the wall across from him. His arm's were most muscular than Sam's, but he was still unfortunately shorter. Dean's hair was in a very short style, swooped up at the from with a fair amount of gel. His usual clothes consisted of a flannel, a jacket, jeans, and a pair of combat boots. His facial structure was strong, and his cheekbones were high. His jawline could slice cheese. The iridescent fairy lights sparkled across his skin. Mary and John had a long discussion about where the band would have their practices, and they'd decided on the garage as long as the band kept it clean. Sam and Dean, on the occasion, ignored that statement. When the garage door from the side of the kitchen opened, Dean stopped bouncing the maroon ball and turned to see his band members plus one.  
"Hey guys," He looked delightedly at them. They were followed by a moderately tall and lanky Asian boy carrying a keyboard.  
"Dean, this is Kevin. He is extremely good at playing and has extraordinary music taste, impeccable style, and would be a great addition. I think you should give him a jam session and make a decision." Sam spoke quickly, him muscular arm wrapped entirely over Kevin's shoulder. He smiled awkwardly, and Dean nodded fiercely.  
"Of course I'll give him a listen. How old are you, man?"  
"Sixteen. I'm in the same year as Sam, I'm just in advanced placement and skipped fourth grade." Kevin spoke, nodding. Dean looked back at Sam and jokingly mouthed the word "nerd." Sam rolled his green eyes and crossed his arms.  
"Good choice of friends, Sammy."  
"Sam."  
"Sammy. ANYWAY, let's hear this guy play," Dean placed some sheets of music upon the old Casio Kevin had brought along with him. He looked carefully at the music for a minute, and began playing the music with minor mistakes. Just as Dean liked. He closed his eyes and tapped his foot to the sounds of The Doors. The music filled his ears and he fell gently in beat with it. When Kevin had finished, Dean lifted his acoustic up and placed it over his knee, holding the neck in his hands.  
"Let's try this, too," Dean smiled softly and began strumming a song and Kevin followed along. Soon enough, Charlie had slid her way behind the drums and Sam has found his way to the guitar. The sounds of music filled the air, and the beauty of each sound mingled. Every instrument had it's own unique sound, as every player had their own unique way of playing.  
"Alright man, no question about it, you're in. What's your name again?" Dean rubbed his slightly aching fingers along his pant leg.  
"Kevin... Kevin Tran," The smile spread across his face.

Sam, Dean, and Charlie, who was basically like a sister, all sat at the kitchen table later that night after Kevin had left with his Casio. The wallpaper was slightly yellowed, due to the boys' father's obsessive smoking, even though he never appeared downstairs anymore. The residue stayed. Charlie took a bite of her overly filled grilled cheese and a sip of her water.  
"So, it's a good idea for new members? I really like Kevin, I've been friends with him for a while, but I know something we are still missing," her voice had a joking tone to it, but she was overall serious. "What are we missing?" Dean scrunched his face up. His cheekbones were "wonderful" according to his mother. Apparently, he was nearly identical in facial structure to his father. His rubbed over the stubble on his face and it made a scratchy sound above the short silence.  
"A bass player, dude," Charlie looked at Dean as if he were stupid. It had only dawned on them that they didn't have a bass player.  
"Huh. True. We should probably get one of those." Sam spoke before him.  
"You guys know Band Battle is gonna be here, in Lawrence, in a little under a year? 10,000 dollar prize. And a week in a recording studio. They've never passed through here. We should do it, but we should probably get a bass player first." Charlie shrugged, leaning back and sneaking a sip of Sam's untouched coffee.  
"Also, we need to catch up on Doctor Who so I'm staying the night tonight," she finished.

"As usual. But, alright lady. We can get the pullout bed in the living room and chill there for a while. I'll put some popcorn in the microwave. We can hold auditions, like, next week or something." Dean tried to hide the underlying excitement of two new band members within a few weeks. Or, at least hopefully two if anyone actually showed up to audition. His excitement didn't go unnoticed by Sam, as Sam understood and nodded along.  
"We can begin making some flyers really soon. Just something simple, with those pull off cards with our names and a phone number?" Sam placed his head in his arms and peeked at his phone. The time read 1:03 AM.  
"Yeah, just like 'Elevator to Hell, need bass player!' and then our phone numbers and stuff?" Charlie copied Sam's action and yawned.  
"Maybe we should get to that Doctor Who now before we all pass out." Dean mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

When Dean woke up in the morning, the TV was on a low volume and the On Demand home screen was pulled up, signalling that he had fallen asleep during an episode. Charlie hated with a passion when he or Sam did that, it meant they had to restart the episode, but it looked like she'd fallen asleep, too. The pullout couch was significantly more uncomfortable than he remembered, but that was only because he wasn't actually on it, for Charlie had kicked him off in the middle of the night. He groaned a little bit, arching his back to pop it. He never remembered her kicking him off as he laid on the floor, his foot slightly propped upon the bed. The blanket that had been covering him was partially on his side now, but mostly covering Charlie in her space. Her legs were spread out, her Harry Potter robe pajamas on, and Sam looked like he was about to fall off too. Dean rubbed his eyes and slowly sat up, removing the blanket from himself. He laid it gently over Charlie. She snuggled into it, the bottom half of her face disappearing between a pillow and the blanket. He stood up and rubbed his eyes again, making his way to the bathroom. He did his business, washed his hands with peach scented soap, and entered the living room again. He had a light bulb above his head. Sam's arm was sticking directly off the side of the couch...And Dean was a mischievous person...  
Dean sneaked back to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out the tub of whipped cream they'd bought. He grinned evilly, having seen this practical joke in movies and prank videos but hadn't ever done it. He found a moderate sized spoon and stuck it in, and then proceeded to go and pluck a feather from his own pillow. His bed hadn't been made in weeks, and his highschool diploma was laid out on his wooden desk untouched since before the previous summer. He entered back into the living room to see Sam and Charlie as sound as ever. He smirked, plopped the whipped cream in Sam's hand, and ticked his nose.  
Sam slapped himself rapidly, and the whipped cream spread all the way across his face, and into Charlie's hair. Dean stood still as a statue at the side of Sam as the younger boy woke up. Sam sat up hastily from the bed and made a lunge at his older brother. They fell over and the world became a wrestling tournament.  
"JERK!"  
"BITCH" Dean yelled, wheezing and laughing while lying under his brother, who was wiping whipped cream in his hair. Dean swatted him away, and Sam fell over onto the dark hardwood floor beside him, taking some cream along with him.  
"Rude." They heard the voice of the now awake redhead vibrate beside them as she combed through the whipped cream in her hair. She looked at Dean, flicked some at him, and silently stood from the bed, leaving the room. When Sam and Dean noticed she was heading for the only bathroom in their house, they realized why it was a good idea to be silent.  
"HEY WAIT, NO I NEED THAT FIRST!" Sam yelled, hopping up from the floor, his monstrous feet slapping the ground, and he rushed to the door that Charlie had already slammed. Charlie slammed  
"Maybe you should've taken a shower before attacking your brother," they could hear the smirk in her voice.  
"What's all this racket?" Mary appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her blonde hair was messily tied in a bun and her nightgown hugged her.  
"Sorry mom, Charlie is a BATHROOM HOG!" Sam yelled, turning back and banging on the door. The shower was already running.

Dean copied and pasted their phone number on each stick of paper making sure the number was correct over and over again. His candy apple green eyes skimmed over the computer screen, checking for mistakes. He didn't want to print fifty of them and then find a typo. Ink was expensive!  
"Right, so, we need a bass player. Any gender, some skill level required, and someone with a good music taste. Auditions by call, whenever is possible. Auditions end 11/15/15. Aaaand, phone number. 50 copies, print." He spoke to himself, thinking of all the possibilities of the new bass player. Maybe no one will call. Maybe it'll be like "School of Rock" and people will just throw them on the ground. He pushed away from the chair he was sitting in, and made his way to their old printer. It let out a screech of life as the first few copies rolled out.  
"SAMMY!" His voice echoed through the house, and feet slammed down the stairs.  
"What?"  
"Once I get the first stack of these out, can you pretty please begin cutting them?"  
"Yeah, sure."  
Their dialogue was very simple. It primarily consisted of either banter, advice, or orders. The Winchesters' were inseparable, they'd die for each other, and they'd fight for each other. Dean pulled the first stack out gently, his large hands curling around the pages, and laid it on the computer desk beside him. Sam grabbed the stack, a pair of scissors, and made his way into the kitchen. The kitchen table was a medium-sized wooden table with legs that seemed to be falling apart. In fact, their whole house seemed to be falling apart. There was mold in portions of the basement that Sam lived in, the antennae for the television went out often, the wallpaper in Dean's room was peeling, and the floorboards of Sam's room were coming out, but they still loved it. Their parent's often took business trips together, leaving the home for them and the few friends they shared to inhabit. It was home and they wouldn't want to trade it for anything, not even a million dollars. They continued the pull-and-cut process until they had about fifty flyers. Their band logo, an elevator shaft with devil horns atop it, stood on the side of it, along with the existing band members names, ages, and a phone number.  
"Looks good." Dean smiled as Charlie came from the stairwell.  
"What's up bitches?" She was running a brush through her thick hair. Dean shot a fast glance at her.  
"Not much, just working on flyers. You like?" Dean held one up and wiggled his styled brows at her. Charlie smiled and nodded, patting him on the head.  
"Congrats, you did the thing."  
"Oh hush," Dean turned back away and cut into another sheet.

The first audition was that following Tuesday, only two days after they'd posted the flyers all across the town.  
"Hi, I'm Gordon Walker." He walked into the open garage. Sam, Dean, Charlie, and Kevin all smiled at him. The man was great in height, and his dark skin was shimmering under the glow of the lights and the sun behind him.  
"How old are you?" Dean questioned, leaning over his lap and placing his chin in his hands.  
"Oh, I'm 24." Gordon nodded, readjusting the straps to his bass awkwardly.  
"Alright, alright. That's cool dude. What are you going to play?"  
"Well, I was just gonna kinda strum around and see where it gets me," Gordon confessed.  
"Oh... Alright then, you can read music, right?" Sam spoke for Dean, ripping the words from his mouth.  
"I mean kinda, mostly. What is this, 21 questions? I thought it was an audition for this shabby garage band."  
Sam could see the anger boiling in Dean's face. He was nearly radiating anger.  
"Hey, man. You've never even heard us play, we aren't shabby." Charlie spoke up, defending her friends.  
"Yeah, I've only been in this band for a short period of time, but Sam and Dean and Charlie are all very talented. If you think they're shabby, then why would you audition?" Kevin was upset by the remark too. He didn't like the feeling of dislike he was receiving from this guy.  
"Ching chong kid," Kevin was taken aback by the racist remark,"It's just a band. I wanted to do Band Battle this year but you guys obviously have no humor."  
"Y'know what man, I've had enough, you can leave," Dean stood from his post, his bow legs being obvious.  
"I haven't even gotten to play!" Gordon remarked.  
"I don't care, leave. Now." Dean was infuriated, this guy was a very obvious jerk.  
"Fine, screw you guys. And Sammy-o, get a haircut. I'm sure you guy's aren't even worth it anyway," Gordon continued his defensive remarks all the way up to his car,"And you guys have a FEMALE drummer? WHIPPED!" And he slammed the door closed.  
Dean shut the garage, now coming down from his short lived anger. Everyone was silent as they each sat back down. They sat in silence for about ten minutes before Kevin blurted,"It could've gone worse. He could've murdered us with the bass."  
"True." Charlie spoke back.

The next two auditions went horribly. Becky, the blonde entirely too obsessed with Sam since the third grade, had shown up. She didn't know how to play or what a fret was, but she sure was comfortable with telling Sam that his hair looked good. Dean dismissed her with a pat on the shoulder and after she'd left, Sam sat shuddering for about fifteen minutes. The next audition was a 37 year old man with the name of Zachariah. He was fat and balding, and Sam and Dean were almost convinced he had been lying about his age to seem more appropriate. He was overall very controlling. He had made Dean play a song to accompany him. He had also made Dean get him a glass of water to "help him calm his nerves." The fourth audition showed up later that day. It wasn't one person, it was two.  
"Alright guys, one real fast question, why are there two of you?" Dean leaned back in his chair.  
"Well, we are Ed and Harry, and you need both of us for your band to be successful," the one with the glasses spoke.  
"Why?" Sam leaned forward. His voice was very cynical and tired of idiots auditioning for the band.  
"Well, I play, and Ed is my moral support," Harry nodded, obviously prideful in his statement. Needless to say, they were dismissed quickly and ushered to leave in a matter of ten minutes. Dean continued to be stressed.  
"ONE more. And then I'm done. There are too many freaking idiots in Lawrence," He spoke after every audition. 

Another girl had come to audition the next Thursday. She was very pretty, and her long brown hair was shiny and tame. She looked extremely normal. Very normal, and she wasn't a bad player, either. Everyone was seemingly impressed with the results. Her name was Ruby.  
"Alright, I'd just like to let you guys know something, I... Oh god this is embarrassing to say to potential band members. I'm first off, a kleptomaniac. I can control myself 99% of the time, it's mostly in stores. Most klepto's aren't even able to admit they've got a problem!" Sam watched as she swiped a pack of cards off the table swiftly and stealthily and stuck them in her pocket without any one else's notice.  
"I'm also, hopefully none of you are weird or biased... A satanist."  
"I'm okay with the satanist part, but I'd like you to put the pack of cards you just grabbed back onto the table." Sam spoke, rubbing his face.  
"Oh...okay," Ruby dejectedly removed the pack of cards from her pocket and stood.  
"I'll just... Go then."  
As she was walking away, she swiped the cards from the table again. No one said anything. It was, as it usually was after auditions, silent.  
"I thought she'd be the one," Sam sighed.  
"Me too, brother, me too."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean poured the milk into his bowl of Cheerio's and dumped nearly half a cup of sugar in there as well. He stirred it briskly and took a fast bite. He then proceeded to place the bowl on the counter, ruffle Sam's hair as he left, and pick the bowl back up. That was basically their morning routine. Dean, obviously not in school anymore, felt he had the need to embrace Sam's final year with enthusiasm. Every morning, Dean woke up at the crack of dawn, took a shower, made Sam breakfast, and ate his own bowl of cereal. As Sam left, Dean would ruffle the hair Sam so meticulously styled. After Sam left, Dean usually sat in the garage jamming out and waiting for Sam to return home, but today he decided to switch it up a little bit.   
Dean finished his bowl of cereal and washed it, the steam from the hot water fogged up the window. He peered at the clock a few feet from him. 7:57 AM, Sam's school day started in 3 minutes. Dean went back up to his room, kicked the maroon ball across the floor, and pulled his laptop from beneath his bed. He always had cautionary places for the items he loved. He also didn't want his parents to know he had bought a laptop with the money from the one job he'd had. He flipped it open and opened the website "Craigslist" up. He clicked on the search bar, and with only a few typos, considering his fingers were so large, he searched up the term "bass player in Lawrence ks."   
Three results popped up. Gordon was the first, Andy Gallagher was the 2nd. Dean clicked on his picture but all the description said was,"yeah man i just want a band i can like chill with and stuff." His picture was him laughing and holding a bass. And a very largely rolled joint. Dean exited out of that quickly. Not that he minded potheads, he just wanted someone who was more serious about music. The last person he clicked on had the description of,"I'd really like to join a band that either writes their own music or does covers of hopefully classic rock songs. I've wanted to join a band since I was younger, no doubt about it! (So obviously, I resorted to the internet for all those needs...) Anyway, my name is Castiel Novak and my phone number is 318-555-0419. If anyone see's this, it'd be really cool to talk to ya! Okay, thank you." There wasn't a picture, oddly enough.   
Dean smiled, nodded, and bookmarked the page. When he checked back at the time, it was only 8:23AM. He got up from his post on the bed, placed his laptop back to its position under the bed, and rushed down stairs. He now had to wait until 3:00 for his brother to return home to tell him the hopeful news. He'd found a bass player.

When Sam came in the door that afternoon, it seemed like they both shared a combined excitement.  
"DEAN! GUESS WHAT!" He yelled as he closed the front door and hiked his backpack up a bit.  
"Yeah, Sammy?" He went over to the entry way of their house where Sam was removing his shoes.  
"I found us a bass player, dude," Sam glanced over,"He's really good, man. I heard him playing on the street today as I was walking home with Kevin because his house is right on the way. Get this, his name? Castiel. Isn't that a weird name?" Sam scrunched his face and Dean grinned,"Dude I was about to give you the same news. Same guy I think, Castiel Novak?"   
"Yeah, man! He's really good, too. And sane, I think. At least he sounded sane when he told me about his aspirations, said he's wanted in a band for a while. He tried out for one but didn't like the people so he left. I gave him a phone number, he said he would call probably real soon."   
Dean blurted before he caught himself,"What's he look like? Is he attractive?"   
"Uh, normal I guess. He has some like, black hair I think. He looked a little older than me, maybe 20 or so. His eyes were blue, and I think he had on a gray tee. Can't remember."   
"Oh, alright, that's cool. I was just wondering because, y'know... Gotta keep up appearance if we are doing Band Battle," Dean responded, attempting to cover up the oddly homosexual question.   
"Yeah, also I-" Sam was cut off by the phone ringing. Both boys raised their eyebrows and bolted for the phone hanging on the wall. Dean reached it, and had his fingers around it, but not long enough as Sam ripped it out of his hand and pressed the speaker phone button.   
"Hello?" A female voice came through. Both Sam and Dean let out the breath of air they'd been holding in.   
"Hey Charlie. What's up?" Sam sighed out.  
"Not much, just wondering what you guys are doing in two months,"  
Sam and Dean looked at each other confusedly.  
"What?"  
"Exactly two months from today is the audition for Band Battle. I... May of signed us up because the sign up sheet was hanging in the front of this pastry shop I like and I-"  
"No Charlie, that's perfect. Really, we may have a bass player," Sam replied enthusiastically.   
"Really?! Who?" Dean could almost see her grin.   
"His name is Castiel Novak, and man, he's really good."

The phone call didn't occur over the following two days and Dean just assumed that Castiel had lost their phone number. He moped around the house, doing minor chores and waiting for his home phone or cellphone to ring but to no avail. Sam's hadn't either. The wait was tedious, but they still had hope for the best. The night after the phone call with Charlie, Dean invited her and Kevin over for dinner assuming that Castiel may call at that point and they could interview him together at maybe a coffee shop of sorts because apparently, the garage was just not working out for them. 

Later that week, on a dark Friday night, Dean's phone began blasting Kansas. He flipped it over, and the number he had seen a few times was shining across the screen. Before answering, he hopped up and made his way into the moldy basement that Sam lived in. He was spinning in a swivel chair and eating candy when Dean arrived.  
"IT'S THE DUDE!" He yelled.  
Sam immediately stopped and ran over, only almost tripping and falling once. Dean slid the answer button over and put the phone on speaker.  
"Uhh hello? Is it working?" A deep, very gravelly voice came from the electronic.  
"Hey! Hi! Who is this?" Dean asked even though he knew very clearly who it was. He just didn't want to sound abnormally stalkerish for already knowing the phone number.  
"Yeah, hi, is this uhhh Sam?" Sam gulped down the remaining candy in his throat but Dean spoke for him,"it's his brother but Sam is here, too,"   
"Alright man, my name is Castiel. I...I really would like to sincerely apologize for not calling earlier. My phone died and I haven't been able to make it to an outlet for a few days, and my minutes are running low so if you could make this call sorta fast I'd highly appreciate it."  
"Uh, yeah sure man. We can meet at the coffee shop on 10th street and go from there tomorrow afternoon around, let's say 2? Bring your bass because you can come back to the house and audition if that works for you, man," Dean didn't even attempt to hide the happiness in his voice.  
"Oh! Yeah, that works. It's telling me my minutes are almost up so I have to go, I will see you around two tomorrow. Maybe try not to be late, not like I'm a very busy person, but I like having dependabl-" the phone hung up, and even though their chat was very short, the boy's couldn't hold in their excitement at meeting the *hopefully* new guy.  
Castiel Novak, we will see you soon.

Dean couldn't bring himself to sleep that night. He knew who he'd be meeting the next day and the anticipation was killing him. He laid in bed for about three hours before removing himself from it and going downstairs. The clock said 3:39 AM in bold red letters. He gave up sleeping for the night. The house was silent, almost entirely too silent except for the low grumble of the television in Sam's room. Dean assumed he couldn't sleep, either, so he grabbed a bottle of water and made his way to Sam's door. He cracked it open, listened in for a second, and then made his way down the stairs as quietly as possible. Sam's room was much larger than Dean's, as they had to add this portion onto the house once Sam was born. It was originally a closet, but they just made it into a basement after approximately a year of hard work. Dean remembered having to share a bedroom with Sam the first four years of his life before the Winchester's could actually afford the add-on. The screaming, the crying, the baby noises...But Dean hadn't minded. In fact, he had enjoyed sharing a room with Sam and comforting him in the night even if it meant he would be grouchy later in the day.   
When Dean reached the step closest to the bottom, he leaned over the railing and took a look at Sam. He was laying upside down off of his full sized bed with a pack of pocky on his lap and a Playstation 3 controller in his hands. His hair was falling and grazing the light blue shaded carpet and his headset was on. His mouth was cracked slightly open and his tongue stuck out. Dean rolled his eyes; Sam hadn't even noticed. When Dean made his way into the room, Sam saw him.  
"Hey man, what's up?" He took one of the pieces of the headset from his ear.  
"Couldn't sleep, too excited." Dean picked up a controlled and plopped himself on Sam's bed. They played video games until about 6AM before they decided to settle down and watch a movie. The boys ended up turning on "The Avengers," but they fell asleep in the middle of it.

That morning, they awoke to a very rude awakening.   
"SAM! DEAN! IT'S 1:33 WAKE UP!" They could hear Charlie bounding down the stairs.   
Dean sat up almost too fast, the pack of empty Pocky fell from his lap and onto the messy floor.  
"We have to meet Castiel at 2," Kevin chimed in.   
"Sorry, we didn't sleep until 6," Sam woke up, his giant body raised and he rubbed the hair out of his face.  
"What time is it?" He asked slowly,"9:33?" Sam murmured.  
"Dude, 1:33," Dean responded.  
"Oh, god," Sam's eyes widened slightly,"better get ready." He stood up and raced Dean up the stairs to the bathroom. Sam made it first, and by the time Dean was about to yell at him, the shower was already running. Dean groaned and kicked the door softly.  
"Rude."  
Charlie sat at the kitchen table with Kevin and they went over a few things of the practice from the previous night. Now Saturday morning, everyone was very prepared to meet Castiel after a week of waiting and anticipating. Once Sam removed himself from the shower, Dean grabbed his clothes and placed the on the back of the toilet and proceeded to quickly shower. Sam had used nearly half of the shampoo already as he usually does. They'd only had it for about a week. Dean rolled his eyes, got a quarter size and rubbed it in.  
"DEAN!" Charlie was banging on the door,"WE NEED TO BE THERE BY TWO, IT IS 1:49, IT'S A FOUR MINUTE RIDE."  
"'Kay, I'll be out in a minute," He rolled his eyes and shut the water off after washing his body. When he got out of the bathroom, clothes on and hair styled, it was 1:54.  
"Dean, hurry up," Sam spoke, making a hand gesture in attempt to speed him up.Everyone was waiting by the door.  
"Shut up, giant. You got to take your shower first."  
"Sorry, princess, we gotta go," Charlie ushered him out the door. He was still putting his shoe on.  
"Guys, I don't have my keys!" Dean tried to yell before they shut the door.   
Charlie stepped away from the door quickly before holding her hands up in panicked surrender. Dean rolled his eyes and walked to the door, pounding on it with his fist. His father's footsteps came from the stairs and pulled the door open quickly.  
"Sorry dad, gotta get my keys because Charlie is stupid," Dean bolted upstairs, grabbed his car keys from his desk, and returned back outside. 1:59, they'd only be a few minutes late.

When Dean pulled up to the front of the shop in his fathers old Impala, he speedily exited the vehicle, tucked his keys in his pocket, and waited for the rest. 2:07, traffic had been much worse than they'd thought. Dean's anticipation was building. He had not a clue why he was so excited, it was just an exciting thing. Not only that someone was willing to join their band, but that they were about to meet him. But, that didn't add up very well, they'd already met five people willing to join the band. Dean shrugged it off as anxiety and entered the shop. He peeked around. Over a high bench, crouched tightly in a small booth, was a tuft of black hair and a guy in a light blue teeshirt. Dean's stomach dropped and he slowly turned around.   
"Sam, that him?" Dean questioned. Sam nodded.   
Dean made his way closer, the rest of the group following behind.  
"Hey, are you Cas?" The nickname slipped out, he hadn't meant for it to.  
"I am Castiel, yes," The man responded. If it were possible, his voice was deeper and even more gravelly than it'd been on the phone. Dean grinned and slid into the booth across.  
"I'm Dean, this is Sam as you already met. Charlie, and Kevin."   
"Hello Dean, nice to see you again Sam, and nice to meet you Kevin and Charlie," He smiled, his slightly cracked lips looked happy and his eyes still looked full of passion for life.  
"So, Castiel Novak, you play bass, you have nice hair," Dean stated in reference to the silkiness of the short hair that sat on Cas' head. It was messy, but it was messy in a good way,"you're only, what 21?"  
"Actually, 20." He smiled again. He didn't seem like he'd stopped. His teeth were in a row of straight and nice beauties, but his skin held a slight dirtiness to it.   
"Well, you've wanted to be in a band for a long time, as have Sam and I. We've just been missing a bass player. If you wanna, like, order some coffee, that'd be cool. I can pay for yours if you'd like me to," Dean added on as he saw Castiel reaching in his pocket and only pulling out a few quarters.  
"No, don't worry yourself with that. I'll just get a small frappe. It's only like 2.00$." Cas leaned down to his bass case and opened it. He pulled out a small sack of coins,"All I've got," he responded when he noticed the look Sam was throwing him. It wasn't in rudeness or disgust, he was just wondering why a seemingly perfectly capable man was scrounging. Dean stood up,"Really, dude. I can get it." Cas sighed in defeat.   
"Thank you," He slid the coins defeatedly back into his opened palm at the edge of the table.  
"Yeah, no problem."  
Dean went to the front of the store and ordered the coffee. He got everyone mediums instead of small. When he handed Cas his, he refused.   
"This one is more expensive, I really dont want to, like, take your money, man." Cas scratched his head. Dean's heart hurt for the man who wouldn't accept his coffee.   
"Really. It's my treat. I swear, it's okay."  
"You sure?"  
"Positive."  
"Thank you," Cas muttered, sipping his. Dean nodded triumphantly.  
"Do you have a car, or would you like to ride with us?" Dean questioned. It seemed like it was only them in the room at that point, just Dean and Castiel speaking back and forth. The other band members seemed to be wiped away in their own conversation.   
"I... If possible I'd be interested in riding with you," Cas was awkward, but grateful. Dean nodded,"Of course." They all left the coffee shop together, it was real now. Castiel was about to audition for the band that would change his life.  
They arrived at the house and Cas stepped out awkwardly. He had previously been squished in the back seat between Charlie and Kevin. They made minimal conversation, only swapping small questions like,"What is your favorite color?" "What is your favorite band?" In which he had answered Pink Floyd and blue, but not in that order.   
Dean unlocked the garage and pulled it open from the bottom.  
"Welcome to the garage," He smiled, stepping in and plopping himself onto the couch. Sam followed and Charlie and Kevin sat themselves on the bean bags. Castiel nodded and cracked a smile, making his way to the one stool in the room.  
"You want to use my bass, or yours?" Dean questioned, leaning over the couch and pulling his bass guitar off the stand and offering it gently. Cas shook his head.  
"No, but thank you. I've got my own," Cas opened the case and various personal items fell out. His bag of change, a few teeshirts, a pair of rolled up jeans, some paper, a pack of pencils. Some small packets of hotel lotion and body wash. The items fell at a rapid procession and Castiel seemed to lightly flinch every time one hit the garage floor. Dean leaned over and handed him items that got near him, lunging at the option to help this guy out.  
"I'm so sorry," Cas said, picking up the contents from the floor of the garage. Dean tried to make a joke,"What, did you think we'd be keepin' ya here?" As he handed Cas a shirt.  
Cas smiled but it wasn't a happy one, it held sorrow.  
"Don't mean to be a downer, good joke and all, but no, I just carry my stuff in here. I'm...Homeless," He shrugged, attempting to hide his face behind his bass. Deans stomach dropped drastically for the 2nd time since he'd met this man.  
"Oh, I didn't mean to, I jus-"  
"Don't worry about it, it isn't a big deal." Cas shrugged,"Can I still audition or do you not want a homeless dude in your band?"  
"Hey, it's all good, you can still audition." Dean smiled at him, handing him a pencil that rolled away. Cas smiled, taking it, and brought out his bass, putting it over his lap.   
"Do you, have an um, have an amp?" He snapped his fingers as the words came to him. Dean nodded, walking over and handing him the cord. Cas plugged it in, tested his strings, and began to play a tune without any further instruction. Dean smiled and nodded along. This guy was perfect. He was good looking, seemed sane, and was good at playing. The homeless part wasn't much of a deal, the only important thing was that he was capable of making it to Friday practices. Dean surveyed his band members. Charlie was softly drumming in the air, hoping and assuming no one saw her. Kevin was tapping along on his knee, and Sam was bobbing his head, his hair made gentle wavy motions back and forth.  
When Cas stopped playing, Dean looked at everyone for approval. Charlie gave double thumbs up, Kevin grinned and nodded, and Sam leaned over and said,"I think that means you're in."  
Cas placed his bass back into the case and smiled the widest one Dean had seen yet.  
"Thank you so much, honestly." It got silent for a minute before Sam tapped Dean and motioned to the garage door that lead into the house. Dean nodded,"One sec, Sam's needy." Cas shrugged and leaned back into his chair, his back muscles relaxed and he messed with his nails as the boys left. He had short stubble that he rubbed his hands over when Charlie began rapidly firing questions. As the sound became a soft vibration, Sam closed the door.  
"This is a very long stretch, but... Do you think we could let Cas crash in the garage? Mom and dad wouldn't ever have to know, they aren't ever around much anyway, right? He'd have a couch and a mini-fridge and a microwave and we could produce some food until he gets on his feet, right? I know, it's crazy, but I'm not wrong," Dean smiled at Sam's compassion for other people.  
"I dont know man, we could ask him. He's older than even me, so he can make his own decisions but we can ask him. I don't know, he barely took the three dollar coffee I bought him, I doubt he'd take an offer on living here. We also just met him," Dean shrugged. Sam looked slightly upset as if that wasn't the answer he wanted, and Dean knew it wasn't. He'd expected Dean to answer the question with arms wide open and a grin brighter than the sun. He hadn't expected the uncertainty. He didn't like the uncertainty.   
The boys entered back into the garage with a few bottles of water for everyone before they posed the question. Dean prepared himself mentally.   
"Cas, this is a very very large proposal, but I was- Sam was- we were... We were wondering if you'd like to maybe live in the garage for a while," Dean stopped talking when he saw the look of discomfort spread across Cas' face,"I mean not like live live, but maybe crash for a while until you're capable of getting back on your feet and maybe getting an apartment or something."  
"Dean, I... That could take months, I don't want to be a burden on you guys... " He trailed off.  
"Really, it's your decision, but I mean, its a valid option, we could make it work. There's a space heater, there's a fridge, we could provide some food and blankets, our parents wouldn't know. I me-" Sam tried to explain but was cut off by Cas.  
"That is a very generous offer and I am humbled by it, but I really don't want to cost you guys money. If it gets worse, I may take up your offer, but honestly, I'm kinda happy just playing out there. I get by."   
Dean opened his mouth, but Cas continued speaking,"I'll just go ahead and go now, my phone will probably be charged for about three days so if you wanna text me, my number is probably in your recents. I will see you Friday, Dean," and he left. Dean smiled softly at the mention of only his name, it made him feel special inside.  
"Well, looks like we've got ourselves a bass player."


	3. Chapter 3

After four practices, Dean knew they had made the correct choice on Cas. Often, he would sit quietly through practice, crack jokes occasionally, and play correct things without further instruction. Sam and Cas had a pretty good friendship, but Dean and Cas were like 2 peas in a pod. They usually sat back and had a laugh whenever Dean tripped over his own guitar cord, which happened very frequently. Whether he liked to admit that or not was out of the question. Kevin and Charlie were growing closer, as he continued to give her offerings of meeting Dorothy, since she was in his AP Biology class. She shook her head and refused usually, laughing and telling him she didn't want to date anyone. He nodded and laughed and rolled his eyes. The band was becoming a family. They began to compose their audition for Band Battle. They had to do 2 covers, and write one original song. Sam and Kevin were in charge of the writing the original song, and Dean, Cas, and Charlie were tasked with deciding which songs to cover accordingly.   
They switched practices to Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, and occasionally the weekends. When they began assigning weekend practices, Dean would go out and pick up Cas, especially if it was on Sundays. The previous weekend, their first practice with Cas, had been on a Friday. The entire night was spent jamming and practicing, and then to their parents dismay, they had four teenagers and an adult in their house until Sunday. A lot of Saturday was spent teaching Cas how to play different video games, and taking many MANY snack breaks. He continuously apologized for "eating them out of house and home," but Dean reassured him that it was okay and that he had more money, anyway. Where he got the money, he never revealed. The group were thick as thieves.

"Alright, Charlie, go for it. Let's hear it," Dean nodded at her. She nodded herself off and then began attempting to play one of the various drum solo's from a Rush song they'd chosen out. She stopped playing about thirty seconds in.  
"Dean, this hurt my arms," She pulled a face and dropped her arms limply at her sides.  
"But you were totally rocking it! C'monnnnnn," Dean looked at her with his attempted puppy eyes.  
"Sam does it better," and she picked up her drumsticks again. She took a deep breath, flexed her arms slightly and began playing again. She got through almost the entire solo before she fell a few beats behind.   
"God, I cant do this," She looked genuinely disappointed in herself.  
"Charlie, honestly, it's okay. I just suggested this because I knew you liked Rush because Neal Peart is an expert. If you cant do it, you cant do it. We can choose a different song," Dean sympathetically walked over to her and placed his arm around her shoulder.  
"Okay, that's fine I guess," She put her head on his shoulder.  
"I, I mean it's just a suggestion but Dean do you know how to play Dust in the Wind?" Cas spoke out. Dean looked up at him and nodded.  
"One of the first songs I actually learned to play, why?"  
"It's a beautiful song, we could do it," He shrugged, smiling.   
"I love that song, it's just not very advanced. Know any other Kansas titles?" Dean stood up from his crouched position beside Charlie.   
"There's Carry on Wayward Son, that's a good song," Cas noted. Dean made a noise of agreement and looked at Charlie,"you think you'd be able to learn that?" She tapped softly on a drum, already knowing the general beat.  
"I bet Kevin will like it, isn't there a lot of piano in that song?" Dean trod back over to Cas. He dipped his head a few times,"Yes, Dean."   
"Alright, we could do that. I wouldn't mind it. There's a few solo's, too," Dean wrote it down on their ideas sheet, and crossed off Rush. They were finally getting somewhere.

In the inside of the house, Sam sat drumming his fingers along the kitchen table as he jotted down lyrics.  
"What rhymes with down?" He commented to Kevin.  
"Frown...Brown.... Clown," He shrugged and ran his hands through his hair. It was peaceful inside the house, as him and Dean had heavily soundproofed it the previous summer after multiple complaints of noise. Dean didn't think their music was noise. After a few more soundless moments, he heard footsteps padding down the stairs. The 3rd one from the bottom always made a loud creak so often people skipped it, but whoever had come down the stairs didn't.  
"Hey Sammy, I've gotta go into work today," His mom appeared at the edge of the table. Her hair was in a high bun and her button up held a shade of light blue.  
"I have to go through the garage, who is out there?"   
"Dean, Cas, and Charlie," Sam leaned back,"Oh, and I love you. Have a good day at work." He checked the clock. It read 1:09 PM on a Sunday. Mary smiled,"Love you too, kiddo," She ruffled his hair as Dean often did,"You too, Kevin. You're part of this family now." She sent him a joking but sincere wink and pulled the door to the garage open. He heard a blast of music and then the vibrations stopped after a second. He assumed it was because Dean was giving their mother a hug.

The next morning, Sam got woke up and stretched his legs until they hung off the edge of his bed. Kevin and Charlie had left around 7 on Sunday, and Sam had gone to his room to finish a bit of homework. The paper he was writing the previous night was laying, finished, on his nightstand, so he grabbed it and shoved it into his overfilled binder. When he headed up the stairs and into the kitchen, Dean and Cas were sitting at the kitchen table talking. There was a half empty pack of donuts sitting across the table.   
"Hey guys," Sam rushed a few fingers through his hair and made his way to the washer and dryer in the closet in the kitchen. He pulled it open, grabbed a red plaid shirt his dad had washed a few days ago. He also grabbed a pair of jeans and socks. He entered the bathroom and got changed quickly, only to exit, put on shoes, grab a doughnut, get his hair ruffled, and head out the door. He met up with Kevin at the end of their driveway and they made their way to the school.

Only a few hours previously, Dean had woken up in the same bed as Cas with an arm placed around his chest and a crying boy attached to him.   
"Don't say that, please," Cas's voice was nearly silent, but Dean was able to hear it. He shook him gently, and when Cas grabbed tighter, he didn't mind. He shook him a minute longer.  
"Cas, Cas, wake up man," His eyes shot open so fast it was almost impressive, and his arm removed from Dean's chest.  
"I am so so so so sorry, I'm so sorry Dean," He hadn't bothered to wipe the tears from his face. Dean sat up, the sheet he previously had covering him fell off of his chest and onto his clothed lap. He looked at Cas with sympathy.   
"Cas, it's okay. Sometimes people accidentally assume a certain position when they sleep and don't move from it, it's okay," Dean shrugged, scratching the side of his head.  
"Oh yeah I meant, I mean I'm sorry for that too," even though he wasn't,"I meant the nightmare, too though, it doesn't happen very often but sometimes it does, I'm sorry." Cas muttered, finally bringing up his hands to wipe the tears, but white tear tracks stayed there.   
"Don't apologize, really. It happens to the best of us. I have this really scary dream sometimes, like where all my family dies in super gruesome ways. Like, Sam getting stabbed and my mom, okay this will sound weird, burning on the ceiling. I had a dream my dad died once and it was pretty sad. We all have our demons and that's okay, man. Don't worry about it." Dean reassured him. Cas' lips tightened into a thin line and he nodded,"Okay... Thank you, Dean." Dean pulled on a shirt from the floor and withdrew from the bed. He and Cas had fallen asleep watching YouTube videos, he assumed. He began heading out of the room, leaving Cas to his own device before he heard Cas speak.  
"Y'know, Dean... I haven't slept in a bed in what, four years?" The pure emotion that was in his voice made Dean's heart sink to his knees.  
"Four?" His voice cracked and he slowly went back over to the bed.   
"That a surprise to you?" Cas raised his eyebrows and hugged the pillow he had beside him. He was still laying down.  
"Slightly. I thought it was only more recent. I- I don't mean to pry, but why? How'd you end up homeless?" Dean questioned, returning under the blankets and leaning closer to Cas until the space was almost intimate. Not in a sexual tension type way, but intimate between two recently made best friends.  
"Well, I don't know if I should tell you," Cas sighed, wrapping his arms around himself and shuddering gently.   
"You can tell me anything, even if you haven't known me too long," Dean took in a breath.  
"Well, when I was 15 ½, about, what, four months from when it happened? I told my sister, Anna.. That I..., Oh god I can't tell you," He covered his mouth and the tears followed their tracks.  
"Cas, It's okay buddy, I'm not going to judge you. If you don't wanna tell me, you don't have to, but it'd be appreciated, I care about you," Dean spoke to him, his back was relaxed but his stomach was not.   
"Okay, fine. I told my sister Anna that...I was, uh...unsure of my sexuality." He spoke tenderly, wringing his fingers and obviously sweating buckets.   
"So?" Dean sat up on his elbows,"Why does that matter?" He knew where this story ended, he just didn't want to think of Castiel going through the pain of losing his family's respect and love that way.  
"Well, she told my brother, Gabe, who informed my dad, she told me she would keep it a secret and that she loved me despite it, I trusted her." His voice started cracking at random intervals and he could sense Cas wanted to stop talking, he didn't want to finish the story.  
"Okay, if you don't want to tell me you don't have to," an unwilling set of tears filled Dean's eyes, not because he was sad that Cas did not want to tell him, but because he was upset Castiel, the amazing and selfless friend he has made, had to endure so much horror he was barely alive emotionally to tell the story.  
"But just know Cas, I won't ever ever ever judge you for anything like that."   
"I'll keep going," he held his voice as steady as possible before he continued," My mom, she ran away a long while ago. She went to, this is going to sound weird, she went to join a cult. It was a religious cult, and she obviously fit right in. Our mom's have the same names. That's why my name is Castiel, by the way," he tried to fit a joke in.  
"Anyway," the blue eyed man took a deep breath,"After my dad heard of my...News... He sent me to a religious reform camp thing, he told me, 'Castiel, you're my son, but I will not tolerate this, get yourself together or else you will not ever step foot in this house again.'"   
"Me being me, of course, went right along with it. It was okay, I suppose. I usually sort of just sat while everyone did the bible research and stuff like that. I knew enough to kind of go along with it, so I did. When I returned home, my father asked me,'Did you see your sin? You're never going to do that again, never question yourself with sinful propaganda.' So, I kept silent the month following until he found my cellphone and saw I had been talking to this guy... This great... Wonderful...Talented guy...Balthaz-" Castiel began choking on his tears and Dean gingerly sat up and wrapped his arm around Castiel, the usually stable man who sat before him, curled in a fetal position and crying harder than Dean had ever seen anyone cry. As soon as Dean's arms wrapped around him, the sobs muffled into his shirt and shaking hands bundled into Dean's chest. They sat in noiselessly for a moment, only exchanging breaths and the soft sobbing emitting from the man. The tear Dean held in his eye previously fell onto the older males hair.  
Castiel slowly pulled away and rubbed his eyes furiously.   
"Okay, anyway," Dean's hand was still on Cas' knee as he continued the story,"This guy, Balthazar," his voice still shook over the name.  
"He was... Special, y'know? He was this very silly grown guy, 21, and I was this really insecure, confused, still silly, and vulnerable almost 16 year old. I met him over Internet, obviously," Castiel smiled gently,"The text? All it said...all it said was, 'get on tonight please!xx' He was talking about the group chat we had open on the computer with 2 other friends, Jo and Benny. The first thing he did when he read it was come into my room where I was in fact, searching for my phone, and he sat on this black egg chair I had. I turned, saw my phone in his hand, and I just... Begged for whatever he saw to be forgotten. All he did was look at me, there was such a hatred. I would've rather had him scream at me, honestly. I wish he would've screamed at me and left it at that..."

"'Is this a boy?' He had asked me, and I told him it was. I also told him that he was british, and that 'xx' was basically another everyday term, that he was just using it casually, and using it as a friend, even if I sort of knew he wasn't. I was standing in front of him, obviously scared, terrified out of my mind. I told him that, and he stood up, placed my phone on my bed, and swung his right arm at me. And then his left. I fell over, I hit my head on the side table and he pulled a backpack from my closet out. He shoved stuff in there, and threw it at me. It was... So cold of a gesture. He wasn't my dad, but in a way he was. He was always verbal, but he hadn't ever actually hit me. I was mortified. I thought he would've killed me.'Get out, and don't you dare come back, you're a mistake. You don't deserve the life I've provided you,' He had told me, even in the state I was on the ground with an obvious concussion, he didn't care. I still grabbed everything I personally wanted to take.. I had 43$ to my name, a toothbrush, 3 shirts, 2 pairs of pants, a pair of converse, a comb, a small first aid kit, and my phone with its charger. I... I climbed from the window, two stories up... I didn't want to walk through the living room and see him or Anna sitting on the couch. I knew it hurt her, but she never seemed to stop and think if it hurt me. She's texted me about 6 times since it happened. I've ignored her attempts... Anyway, I sprained my ankle on the trip down. It was oddly the only injury I sustained other than my concussion. I ended up hitchhiking with this guy. If my dad didn't want to see me again, he didn't want to see me. I left. Dropped out of school the next day."  
"I rode with him from Lincoln all the way here, he dropped me off only about fifteen miles from here. I tried giving him money, but he said it was okay and that he was headed this way anyway, and he drove off. Haven't seen him since then. I sometimes wonder if he got to where he was going... " Cas slightly trailed before continuing,"I've still actually got the text," Cas pulled a cracked cell phone from the bedside table, unlocked it, and handed it to Dean. Dean read the text, and returned his eyes to Cas.  
"I... I am so sorry." Dean spoke. His words seemed to help Castiel, knowing there was someone who still cared for him.

"It is not your fault, Dean."  
"Have you tried getting a job? Or something? I don't mean to pry more, but I'm just wondering," Dean questioned the ocean eyed boy.   
"No one wants an inexperienced homeless kid. They don't want someone who is only able to take maybe three showers a week and had no way to get from A to B other than walking. They didn't want me when I was 16, they haven't wanted me since I've been 20. The bass player ad, the one you saw on craigslist, I posted that from a library when I was 17. I bought a bass, cheapest one in any store over the next 23 miles, because it seemed easy to play and to earn with, and I taught myself. At the point in time I posted the ad, I actually didn't even know how to play. I never got any calls. No one ever saw it. And then there's you. You're different, Dean Winchester," The tears had since cleared from his eyes.

Then there they were. Sam left for school and both men were sitting in the kitchen talking about politics.  
"Of course I'd vote for Bernie Sanders, he's the only viable candidate, we get Trump, we die," Dean joked.  
Cas nodded, agreeing with the statement,"And free college. Even though I never finished high school, it'd be cool to go back one day, yeah?"   
"Yeah. I decided I didn't want to go to college when I saw the price tag. The only one that has gone to college in our family is my mom," Dean took a bite of his doughnut, dropping white powder on the table and his lap,"Sam could get a full ride to Stanford if he keeps his grades up."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, munching on donuts and sipping coffee.   
"Any possibility I could take a shower?" Cas inquired, raising his eyebrow.  
"No problem, go for it," Dean smiled at the way Cas acted. He was opening up, he was allowing people to care for him. Cas got up, pushed in his chair, set his cup in the sink, and made his way to the bathroom.  
"Wait, dude," Dean said before he reached it,"Don't you need clothes?"   
"Why, yes, I do. I probably should've thought of that." Cas could feel his face heating.  
"I'll go get some real fast," Dean stood from his chair and rushed up the stairs and grabbed some of his smaller clothes, the ones he had saved for Sam before he outgrew Dean. He grabbed a pair of plain black basketball shorts, a white tee, and a pair of plaid boxers, considering the Winchesters owned nearly everything in plaid. He went back down and handed the clothes to the once again seated Castiel.   
"Thank you," He smiled at Dean and went back to the bathroom.   
"There are towels in the cabinet!" Dean shouted as Cas closed the door.

Sam returned home that afternoon by himself. Dean and Cas were sitting in the living room, their eyes glued to an episode of Doctor Who.  
"Having fun?" Sam walked in and placed his backpack on the recliner. Cas nodded, not looking away from the sizable screen.   
"I can tell," Sam spoke.  
"Shhh, Sam. Cas hasn't ever watched Doctor Who. We started at the beginning of 9." Dean hushed his brother, waving a hand in his general direction.   
"Alright," Sam whispered, tucking a loose bit of hair behind his ear and sending Dean a cynical bitchface.  
"Dean, I don't understand. Why are they farting? Is it for comedy?" Cas eyebrows crunched and his eyes narrowed.  
"They're calcium based, they're Slitheen from Raxacoricofallapatorian," Sam responded in place of his brother.  
"Yeah, what he said," Dean nudged his way up to sit closer on edge. Sam stopped moving around and stood long enough to watch a suspenseful moment before plopping onto the couch, forcing Castiel to scoot over and press his thigh to Dean's. There the three sat there the rest of the night, simply talking and watching Doctor Who. Castiel had not left their house in 4 days. Life was going well for the destitute man with oceanic eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean didn’t stop once to think if it was a good idea or not before he was waving to his father and running to his car. Castiel had called him moments before, sobbing and telling him that someone had stolen his bass. He could feel the pile of fury building in his stomach and in his muscles. If they’d stolen his bass, they’d stolen all of his clothes and money he had. Dean flew out of the driveway and was at Castiel’s normal coffee shop in a matter of four minutes, his new record. Castiel was sitting against the wall of the building, a cup of steaming coffee was in his hands and his knees were pulled to his chest. He was sitting there shivering in the slight cold that there was, but he was also crying. Castiel felt wrong, he felt angry. He thought maybe he’d done something to temp someone to steal an instrument, his only prized possession. Dean jumped up onto the sidewalk and ran over to the older man.  
“Cas, are you okay?” Dean instantly sat down beside him, removed his coat, and placed it over the shivering person beside him even if he knew it was primarily from the anger and tears.  
“Why would anyone do that? You see someone pull 1.25$ from a change bag in a bass case, and leave it outside for about 3 minutes, and you take it? Is that really the way humans function now? Is it really?” Castiel’s voice was almost shaking as much as the actual person was. Dean felt the pit of rage building again.  
“I’ll find whoever did this to you and I will smack them all the way into tomorrow, don’t you worry,”  
“Dean… That isn’t what I want, though. All I want is my bass back. I just want to play music. We have practice tomorrow, the auditions are in two weeks, and now not only is my bass missing, but my freakin’ pants are too,” Castiel curled his fingers tighter around his coffee cup.   
“I just… Cannot fathom a reason to steal my bass, above everything. It was 45 dollars at a pawn shop, the strings are old and run down, and if they’d ever heard me play on the street, they’d also know its permanently out of tune a bit.” Cas sucked in a bit of the steam into his nose, calming slightly. Even though the tears were still on his face, they’d stopped falling. Dean wiped them away quickly and stood up in attempts to motivate Castiel.   
“Let’s go,” He stated.  
“W...What?” Castiel looked up, confused and still holding his coffee.   
“We are going to go find who did this,” Dean nodded towards his car.  
“Oh, I mean, okay. I’ve looked, but I guess they couldn’t of gotten very far,” Cas now seemed slightly more determined and a little less broken by the loss of his bass.  
The 2 guys got into the car and Dean started her up, the purr of the engine rumbling below their feet. He reversed and headed into the busy morning streets.   
“You look that way, I’ll look this way and we will find him,” Dean spoke with confidence and even though Cas was still terribly upset, Dean’s hope, gave him hope.   
“I just wanted to say… Thank you, Dean.” Cas’ voice was gentle, and as Dean peeked over to him, he saw the blue eyes sparkling off the window.   
“No problem, I’ll help you find this,”   
“Well, I mean… Just in general. Thank you for letting me in your band, offering your garage, feeding me… Letting me shower three days in a row. Letting me sleep in your bed. Just… Thank you for being you, Dean. Really,” Cas voice was filled with extensive affection.   
“I… No problem, really Cas. Our house is always open. You can shower there anytime. You want food, you get food. Me or Sammy not home? I’m sure my dad would greet you like a son. You’re a good man, Castiel.” Dean gently rubbed his fingers over the steering wheel. It got quiet except the soft sound of the engine and the voices of The Beatles.

Two hours had passed and Cas and Dean had migrated back to the house.  
“I am so so sorry, Cas,” Sam spoke with his puppy eyes once he heard the news.   
“It’s okay. At least there wasn’t much valuable in there. I had ten dollars, and a few other minor things like clothes but it’s okay. I can… Live for now,” Cas sighed, resting his head on the table. Dean frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but before the words came out, his father appeared in the arch of the door.   
“Hi Dean, Sam. Hello, Castiel,” John made his way to the fridge and pulled out a beer. Dean sighed gently and responded,”Hi, dad.” He wanted to say,”Hi John, how many beers has it been today?” But he refrained. His father was quite possibly always in his room on the computer doing work. Mary was normally breaking apart confidential files and working with those. She didn’t find it necessary to drink, she just did her job. John thought his job was so incredibly stressful. He also found it stressful staying in the same room as Mary for nearly 10 hours a day, and then sleeping in the same bed. He loved his wife, so so so much, but being with her constantly was tiring to him for some reason. Probably because he was confined. They had the rest of the house, but it’s not like either one got much of a break. John maybe went into his actual office once a week, and the same situation stood with Mary. Both hated their jobs, even if Mary was giving justice to innocent people, and even if John was helping people restore their computers. (Aka, in this day and age, their lives.)  
“Having a good day? I have to go into the office,” John spoke, taking a fast swig of the now opened beer to care about the reprucussions of drinking and driving.   
“When?” Sam asked, his face perking slightly.  
“About fifteen minutes, why?”   
“You’re… Drinking before you leave?”   
“It’s not like I’m drunk or buzzed, Sam. I’m safe, it’s okay,” his words had always seemed to be naturally slurred.   
“Okay… I could drive you, or something. I need to work on my permit before it, y’know… Expires and stuff,” Sam spoke, his words dropping into a mumble because he already knew the answer was no.  
“Boy, don’t you worry about that. Dean can help you get your hours in. I need to get to work. Thanks for the concern, son, but mind your own business,” Sam’s expression faltered at his father’s words.  
“Okay, sorry,” he looked at the table, fumbling with the edges of the place mat. This was the rare occasion that Dean saw the sadness truly resonate in his brother face, it was when he was subjected to rejection.  
John exited out into the garage.   
“Dean, where are my keys?”   
“Are you... Not taking mom’s?” Dean was slightly confused.  
“No, I need the Impala, your mother doesn’t trust me to drive her’s.” He smiled, but it held some passive aggression.   
Dean desperately wanted to say,”You mean the keys to MY car? My car that I don’t trust you to drive considering you’ve been drinking, either?” but he didn’t. He fished the sparkling keys from his pocket and passed them slowly to John.  
“See you later, Dad.” 

John returned a few hours later, his face weary. The boys had moved from the kitchen to Sam’s room, but they heard the door slam. Cas jumped at the sound.  
“Dean, keys,” He heard John yell from the top of the stairs.  
“Okay,” he yelled back, pushing himself from the floor and setting the controller on Sam’s entertainment center. He ran up the stairs, opened the door, and retrieved the keys.  
“Thanks, dad.” Dean spoke. Before he shut the door, John put his foot between it.  
“Can I talk to you a minute?”   
“Uh, yeah, of course.”  
Dean got all the way up the stairs and turned towards his father, who stood a mere 1 inch over him.  
“What’s up? Dean stuffed his keys in his pocket.  
“I don’t mean to be a jerk here, but I don’t appreciate that boy eating all of our food,” John’s words were cold. Dean questioned whether or not John was listening when he informed him that Cas was homeless.  
“Dad,” Dean paused a moment,”He’s literally homeless.”  
“I know, I know. But food costs money, alright? I get that he’s homeless, Dean, but doesn’t he have SOME money, can’t he pay for at least a little bit of the food we give him?”   
“He just lost EVERYTHING he owns, Dad. He’s not gonna be able to do that for, well, a long time,” Dean was entirely baffled at his father’s ignorance.  
“Okay Dean, look at it this way. Are you the one buying food? Paying the bills?” Dean had fury in his stomach, but his father continued talking,”Do you work at all? Do YOU have kids running in and out of your house all day, playing their instruments, acting all big?” John’s voice was slowly raising, but Dean kept his lips in a tight line. He knew talking would break Hell loose, and that was the last thing he wanted with Castiel downstairs 30 feet away.   
He WANTED to respond,”YES, father of mine, I did have a job, but you asked me to quit it so I could take care of YOUR son. I started this band because music is the only thing that makes me feel alive, let me ask you, have YOU ever been homeless? No, didn’t think so, so stop being ignorant, and maybe spend the money you’d spend on beer, on food.”  
Instead of speaking, though, he balled his fists and turned his head.  
“Dean, I get you’re mad, but I’m not being unreasonable. Your mother and I have to provide for you and Sam, not the random kids that go in and out.”   
Dean simply turned away, opened the door, and made his way back downstairs. He slammed Sam’s door behind him, the key’s jingling in his pocket on the way down. Cas was staring blankly at the sheet occupying Sam’s floor.  
“I’m sorry, Sam, Dean, I should probably just leave.” Dean knew he’d heard the conversation.  
“Cas… I’m sorry my dad is ignorant, but if he honestly meant it he would’ve dragged you out himself.” Dean spoke, helplessly wriggling his fingers.  
“He does not want me here, Dean,” Cas spoke grimly.   
“We want you here,” Sam stated, his confidence bubbling over to Dean.  
“Yeah, Cas. We want you here. We want you here, and we are going to figure out who took your bass, and we are going to feed you, and let you shower. And we will take him down.”

The following morning, Dean showered quickly, allowing Castiel to sleep peacefully. He awoke his friend and Sam with the scent of pancakes.  
When Cas made his way down the stairs, Mary followed, and then Sam’s head appeared around the corner.   
“Morning, people.” Dean threw bacon on the skillet. This was a first for Mary to get food this early.  
“I have to go into the office again, Dean. Sam, could you make me a plate?” She smiled over at her youngest son.  
“Of course,” Sam smiled back and pulled some of the finished pancakes and bacon from the side table. He put syrup, and butter on both the pancakes and the bacon, just the way she’d like it.  
“Thanks, honey,” She pressed a kiss to his forehead as she removed a pair of socks from the dryer.  
Sam loved his mother, and their relationship was very strong. She nurtured him like a toddler into his teens, which he didn’t mind. She loved Dean the same, but he wasn’t the baby of the family. He got much stricter rules and less treats, but now he was an adult, she wasn’t able to enforce said rules on him except if they involved the garage. Cas’ hair was messy and fluffy, falling lazily over his right eye. Dean smiled, but it wasn’t intentional.   
“Mornin’ Cas,” Dean spoke, passing him an empty platter, and placing the rest of the bacon onto the plate beside him  
“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel smiled gently, and picked a pancake and slice of bacon from the table.   
“Of, honey, if you want more you can have it,” Mary’s kind words filled Dean’s head. They were the opposite of what his father had said the night before.  
“I...Thank you,” The messy-haired man spoke before taking another pancake and smothering it in syrup.  
They all sat down at the table, as it was now Friday.   
“One more day in school, and you’re out, Sammy. Remind Kevin to bring his new cord so we can hook him up to the amp,” Dean spoke, shoving a bit of pancake in his mouth.  
“Dean, you shouldn’t speak with your mouth open,” Castiel spoke softly. Dean turned towards him,”Hush,” and nudged his arm playfully. Cas held up his arms in surrender and everyone chuckled.   
“Right, I’ll see you guys later,” Sam shoved his now empty plate into the sink, and went to leave the house.   
He tried to dodge Dean and Mary’s hair rustles, but he was too slow.  
“Guysssss,” they heard him complain as he closed the door behind him.   
“I have to head out, too. Your father is hung over, so try not to be too loud. He’s cranky. Love you Dean,” she affectionately kissed his forehead. Despite Cas body language, she leaned to his forehead and kissed it too,”you too, Cas. Have a good day, boys,” She grabbed her purse and followed Sam out the door.  
“Wanna go in Sam’s room and play GTA?” Dean leaned over. Cas shrugged,”Sure.” The happiness was radiating in his eyes, and it made Dean’s insides flutter.

The first time they'd REALLY hugged was that day. Sam had left for school and the 2 men had entered his room and taken over his gaming systems. They'd been playing online on the same team. After a long held anticipation, they had won. In their excitement, they threw their controllers down. Dean kissed the older man’s cheek, but Cas didn't seem to notice as he picked Dean up from the floor in a hug. It lasted a few moments in jumbling hysteria, but when they parted they realized the situation.   
“Sorry Cas, that was probably weird,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged, the smile and blush still presented itself vibrantly.  
“No, Dean, I don't mind. Your hugs are… Nice,” Castiels eyes flicked quickly to Dean’s face, and back at his toes again.   
“Wanna… Go…. Practice?” Dean pretended to be in thought between each word.   
“Of course” Castiel smiled,”after you,” and they made their way up to the garage. Once they got their, they hooked up their instruments quickly, and Dean presented Cas with his father’s bass. He took it with a sorrowful smile and broken eyes, but even though he was sad, he held it with opening arms and strummed for a moment.   
“Thank you.” Cas’ words hit Dean and he smiled proudly,”no problem. We will find yours, though, I promise.”  
They practiced the day away, pausing at moments to catch food in their mouths and kick a ball around the garage, making sure they didn't knock things out of place. When Sam returned home with Charlie and Kevin, they entered through the front of the garage, as in the area a car would enter. The blinding light hit the 2 guys kicking the ball around, and they waved joyfully. Sam hadn’t seen his brother this happy in a while, it made him fill with happiness for Castiel, who was visibly happier now than he had been when he’d auditioned.   
“Hey, guys,” Charlie set her backpack down and plopped onto the couch.  
“Rough day?” Dean questioned, sitting down on the couch beside her.  
“I almost talked to Dorothy today for the fourth time in my life. I was going to ask her, this will sound lame, if she wanted to be friends, and then… Some guy came up and wrapped his arms around her… I give up,” She put her head in her hands.  
“I know what you mean,” Sam sat down in the ground, his height still almost matching Deans. Albeit, it was a low couch, but Sam’s torso also was like a giraffe’s neck.   
“Whats up with you, Sammy?” Dean raised his eyebrows at his younger brother.  
“You remember that girl I dated? The one girl I REALLY liked. One that moved to California?” Sam questioned, peeking up from his hands at Dean.  
“Jessica? The one that dropped a slushie in my car?” Dean spoke, light distaste in his words.  
Sam rolled his eyes,”Yes, Dean. I think you forgot to listen to the part where I said I REALLY liked her,”  
“Yes, but she also spilled a slushie in my car. I will forever have a slight red stain in my backseat,” Dean shrugged.  
“Anyway, she’s back. The first person she chose to talk to was the guy she dated literally right before me, Tommy Collins, I heard she was back, and I was heading to talk to her, and she looked at me and walked away. Maybe she didn’t know who I was or maybe she just hate-”  
“Sam, you’ve grown 10 feet since freshman year and your arms are the size of buildings. She probably just didn’t recognize you,” Dean stated, patting Sam’s shoulder.  
“I guess, I will probably try again on Monday, I was just… Y’know… Hoping, I guess,” Sam shrugged a bit and fumbled with his nails.  
“What about you, Kev? You’ve not said anything,”   
“I go to school for school, Dean. I don’t really… Care about interpersonal relationships like dating,” He shrugged and so did Dean,”Alright, buddy. Just keep us updated on the ladies you get when you become the first Asian-American president,” Dean grinned, and Kevin let the sun shine from his mouth, it was obvious that he could see Dean’s confidence in him and it made him ecstatic.  
Castiel looked at Dean every few moments, taking in the words he was saying.  
“So, we have spent all day playing and eating. What’ve you guys done?” Dean chuckled at his own form of amusement for the day vs. his little brothers.  
“I had an algebra test I think I may have aced but I’m not sure,” Sam crushed his eyebrows.   
“They offered me an opportunity to graduate a few months early, like in December,” Kevin beamed.  
There were choruses of “that’s great”’s and pats on the back.   
“I embarrassed myself in front of everyone,” Charlie spoke, her tone dull and sad, reverting from her previous excitement for Kev.  
“Hey, I’m sure no one actually even saw you walking up to talk! It’ll be alright, you’ll find someone, someone amazing,” Castiel spoke hopefully to the redhead.  
“Thank you, Cas. I hope so. It’d kinda suck if i didn’t,” She chuckled.  
“Hey, it’ll be all good. You’re only a junior, anyway. Maybe they’ll be broken up soon and you can start your friendship then,” Dean winked at her.  
Her face developed a tint and she swiped her arm at his chest,”Shut up, brat,”  
“Oh hush, Charles,” Dean spoke back, hopping up to avoid her repeated action. In the process, he tripped backwards over Castiel’s legs and fell right beside him, legs draped over Castiel’s knees and his arm gripping the floor and couch beside his shoulder.  
“Sorry, Cas,” Dean blushed slightly, chuckling awkwardly.  
“It’s okay, Dean,” Castiel looked amused.   
Dean stood quickly,”ANYWAY, new and fun idea, wanna go try to find Castiel’s thief?” He pulled the jingling keys from his pocket.  
“That sounds good. Whoever took it deserves to go down,” Charlie stated and Cas sided with her.  
“Everyone’s free for the weekend? So we can have 2 days to practice?” Dean questioned. Everyone nodded separately.   
“Alright. Only a few weeks, guys. We’ve got an audition.” Dean’s pride soaked into his words. Cas looked slightly upset, but Dean stuck his hand out to him. They linked hands and Dean lifted him from the floor.  
“We will find your bass, Castiel, don’t you worry.”


End file.
